


Moments

by stevegrogers



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Best Friends, Coming of Age, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Post-Captain America: The First Avenger, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-Captain America: The First Avenger, Pre-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-03-18
Packaged: 2018-03-18 12:43:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3570134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stevegrogers/pseuds/stevegrogers





	Moments

"I was fine," Steve quipped, wiping the blood off his jaw with his sleeve. "You don't always have to come rescuin' me, Bucky."

 

"You kidding?" Bucky cupped Steve's face in his hands and turned his jaw. Steve's skin had always marked up easily, but the bruise spreading across his left cheek and his busted lip and Bucky's fists clenching in agitation. He couldn't stand seeing Steve hurt, especially because Steve was the suffer-in-silence type, and wouldn't tell anyone that he was hurting. It drove Bucky nuts. "Am I just supposed to let them beat the snot outta you?"

 

Steve shrugged, giving Bucky his winner-winner-chicken-dinner smile. "Thanks, Buck."

 

Bucky was Steve's parachute, his 100% guarantee, his safety net. Bucky would always catch him.

 

Bucky's anger was already fading, with Steve beaming up at him like that, tiny dimple hidden in his cheek. "Yeah, whatever, punk."

 

* * *

"Bucky." It was summer now, the sky a million different purples this late at night. Steve had an asthma attack and Bucky had discovered that he breathed better under the open sky, so he took Steve outside and stroked his face and hands and arms until he was okay again. When he was better, though, he didn't want to go back in, so they'd wandered out until the found a patch of grass and laid down in it. It was so weird being sixteen, whole life ahead of you still. The thought kept Bucky from sleeping.

 

"Yeah, Stevie?"

 

Steve was so close to sleep, eyelids fluttering and lips rouged pink and round. His small hand, so frail, was clutching at Bucky's flannel shirt and he leaned his head against Bucky's shoulder.

 

"Love you."

 

Bucky smiled. "I love you, too, Steve."

 

* * *

"We're going to the army, Buck!" Steve cheered, squeezing the damn life out of Bucky's left bicep, but that was the least of his concerns. He was worried about this. Like, it was extremely stressful for Bucky to think about Steve willingly putting himself into harm's way. That had always been Steve, though – running right into the threat of danger. 

 

"Yeah," Bucky finally responded, excitement void from his tone.

 

"'S wrong?" Steve asked, baby face wrinkling with concern. "Why're you sad?"

 

"I'm not," Bucky said, forcing a smile on his lips. He could do this for Steve. He could do anything for Steve. "Can't believe we're doing this. Look at you." He ruffled Steve's hair affectionately. "Always a little punk."

 

Steve grinned. "An army punk now."

 

Bucky's heart ached. He faked a grin back. "A punk nonetheless."

 

* * *

"Jesus Christ," Bucky gasped. He didn't know what he'd expected, but it wasn't this. The Super-Soldier Serum made Steve so different. Cured his asthma, took away his heart issues...Bucky couldn't believe it. He was happy, of course, and...surprised. "How do you feel?" he finally managed. Nobody else in the room had spoken.

 

"Taller," Steve grinned, and Bucky's heart unclenched. He hadn't realized how tense he was until Steve said that. He was still Steve, Bucky's Steve – always would be. "Look, Buck, I'm as tall as you now!" 

 

Bucky laughed. "Still a punk, though."

 

Steve winked at him. "Always."

 

* * *

Bucky thought about Steve every day. Even though it had been a long time since he'd seen him, he still thought about him.

 

He knew Hydra had ruined him, and all he could think about was the possibility that they had Steve, too. He only had very brief memories, and they were often wiped, so when he remembered, he treasured it. Otherwise he just stared at walls. It was weird, being a weapon, because it turned him into a machine. A machine with a metal arm. 

 

He usually dreamt of Steve, that was how he remembered him even though Hydra had stolen the actual memories. He remembered the fourth of July, fireworks mirroring the brightness in Steve's eyes. He remembered the taste of beer on Steve's lips, his tiny body squeezed so tightly against Bucky's side. The fourth of July was Steve's birthday, too, so it was always a day to celebrate.

 

* * *

Bucky was confused.

 

He knew he knew that face, the guy who kept calling him "Bucky," and saying, "You're James Buchanan Barnes," and things like that. He knew he knew him, and he didn't know where he knew him from. It was biting at the edge of his subconscious, just out of reach. The blue eyes were so sad, so...familiar, and Bucky was going to lose his mind if he didn't find out where he knew him from.

 

(Of course, then Hydra wiped his memory, so he didn't really remember that at all.)

 

* * *

Steve's stomach hurt. He'd probably cried too hard.

 

Seeing Bucky today with that empty look on his face, seeing that he didn't remember him, it'd ruined Steve a little. It had dug an achy trench in his heart. He was re-finding himself in the world again, just like when they'd thawed him out. He went from adapting to a world without Bucky to having to adapt to a world with Bucky, but not the Bucky he knew.

 

* * *

"I'm with you till the end of the line," Steve told Bucky. He was willing to die with him right now, but he wasn't going to hurt Bucky. Not today. Not ever.

 

Steve was Bucky's mission, and Steve knew that.

 

Bucky looked up then, staring straight into Steve's eyes, and something twitched in his gaze.

 

* * *

"I'm with you till the end of the line, buddy," Bucky laughed, running down the street with Steve. They were ten, being chased by some older boys. Steve always picked fights with the big bullies, and Bucky either fought to protect him, or ran away with him.

 

* * *

"I'm with you till the end of the line," Bucky told Steve, pressing kisses to the tiny blonde's face, smiling against his skin as Steve giggled and squirmed out of Bucky's grasp. Steve was so ticklish and his skin was so soft and smooth, Bucky would kiss him everywhere, all over, if Steve would let him.

 

* * *

"I'm with you till the end of the line," Bucky told Steve firmly. They'd been twelve, and Steve was having a panic attack because he was scared Bucky was going to leave him. Bucky couldn't leave him, not like everyone else had. Not Bucky.

 

* * *

"I..." Bucky was suddenly snapped back to the present. Suddenly this mission didn't seem like such a good idea. "You used to be smaller."

 

Steve blinked. "What?"

 

"You used to be smaller. Right?" Bucky cocked his head. Everything was so confusing. "I used to call you Stevie."

 

Steve had to really try to keep from crying again.

 

* * *

It was a few months later now, and Bucky was doing okay. He still didn't really like being touched – not even by Steve – but he talked more, and he was still fiercely overprotective of Steve.

 

"Where are you going?" Bucky asked, catching Steve right before he was about to walk out the door.

 

"Uh, for a run," Steve said.

 

"Are you coming back?" Bucky asked Steve this every time he left.

 

"I always do," Steve nodded. Bucky nodded, satisfied, and stepped back to let Steve leave.

 

"Wait!" he called before Steve went down the steps.

 

"What?" Steve sounded slightly irritated, and Bucky felt bad.

 

"I..." Bucky bit his lip, and Steve waited. Bucky had never been one to be at a loss for words, so this was new. He waited until Bucky choked out his statement, cheeks flushed, eyes on his metal fingertips. "Iloveyou." He said it in a rush, and it had been the first time Steve had heard those words since the two of them were kids.

 

"What?" Steve asked carefully, climbing the steps so that he could hear Bucky say it again.

 

Bucky ducked his head. "I can't say it again."

 

"Bucky," Steve said gently. Slowly, so that Bucky would have time to pull back if he wanted, he slipped his hand into Bucky's metal one. The arm whirred as Bucky's cheeks pinked. Steve's cheeks were pink, too. He lifted Bucky's hand and rested it over his chest so that Bucky could feel how hard his heart was beating.

 

"You love me, too?" Bucky whispered, understanding what Steve was trying to convey.

 

Steve nodded, and then Bucky leaned in and he kissed him, surprising Steve. He kissed back though, wrapping his arms around Bucky's neck and just loving him so much. Steve loved him so much.

 

"You're a good kisser," Bucky grinned, "punk."

 

Steve laughed. He was probably going to cry again. "A punk that's in love with you."

 

"Still a punk," Bucky grinned, and how could Steve disagree?


End file.
